Obsta Principiis
by PrinceZero
Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange's dagger sends Harry back in time to the roots of Voldemort's reign. Intending to stop his rise Harry becomes involved with the intruiging young witch Bellatrix Black who guides him straight into the Dark Lord's path. And so it begins.
1. Prologue

**A/N: The inspiration for this comes from the story "Delenda Est". It's beautifully written, enchanting, and a thrilling read. Honestly, I don't believe that my story can even compare to that one. Although, it has inspired me to try once more at the Harry and Bellatrix pairing but with a more of an epic touch to it than romance (though that will still be included). In some ways this story may be similar to Delenda Est, so I give much thanks and credit to the author(s) who participated in its making.**

**Furthermore, thanks to all friends and writers alike that helped me write this and will hopefully continue to be at my side till the end of it. I do have positions for two or three more betas so contact me if you're interested. Anyways, read on. Enjoy!**

* * *

He was running again. There was no time for rest. Many sleepless nights had already passed and under the circumstances, slumber would certainly not come easily. The rubble of his nearly obliterated school continued to rain down and trip him along the way but he managed to keep a steady pace. Behind him, one could say there was a trail of death; for everywhere he looked, dead bodies were cast among the floor. Mainly bodies of people he used to call friends accompanied by a few clad in black robes who where the worst of enemies. The sounds of battle cries became fainter and fainter with each sprint. Soon enough, as the distance from the battle increased, the nightmarish screams behind him faded away. Though out of earshot, those screams would certainly haunt him for years.

At last, he was away from the grounds of Hogwarts, leaving the turmoil behind, and now amongst the trees of the Forbidden Forest. As far as his eyes could comprehend the scenery flashed by him in a blur. The inhuman speeds at which he was running could allow nothing more to be seen.

Breathing was a difficult feat as smoke from the burning school behind him choked his lungs. And had it not been for his will to move on, his strained legs would have easily given out from under him at any moment. Pausing, however, wasn't an option. He had to get away but not out of fear. It was in the search for a miracle; for help. Any kind would do. Anything to give his side an upper hand was what he was in search for. It was a bleak prayer but hope couldn't be lost. It had to be kept alive somehow. After all, hope was the only thing they had left.

"HARRY POTTER!" A distinguishable voice hollered his name, encouraging his exhausted legs to move quicker despite the unbearable stinging of his lightning-bolt scar. Ignoring the grim calling, Harry continued treading through the forest. To his imagination, the inhabitants of the dead forest seemed to be shunning him, berating and belittling his very existence as he whizzed by.

"_There he goes!"_ The dry leaves upon the ground crunched maliciously as he stepped upon them.

_"There goes Harry Potter! He's the one who left his friends to die!" _ The trees degraded, looming over him as though he was a parasitic being that would be better off dead. Not that he disagreed with them.

"_After they risked their lives for him! Here he is! RUNNING AWAY!" _The mysterious critters and creatures barked at him in his mind.

"_He's the worst of people! He ran from those who cared for him! They loved him! They sacrificed themselves!"_ The leaves spoke again.

"_Everyone believed Harry Potter to be great- noble! HA! A true hero would never escape from a war no matter how bleak the odds seem to be!"_ The trees chimed up again as they scratched and scarred his face with their pointed branches to display their distaste for him.

"_Go back! Go back!"_ They chorused. "_Face your doom, you coward! You let them die for you, now you shall perish in vain!" _Harry was aware that everything was a figment of imagination but the voices were right; the voices in his conscience were saying the exact same things. He was in the wrong. He didn't stick with them till the end. But what could he have done? They told him to leave- forced him to. With tears now leaving tracks of wet dirt down his face, Harry forced the insulting voices out of his being.

"It's all my fault. It's entirely my fault." He whispered to no one in particular. "They died because of me... I'm pathetic." As in response, he heard that vicious man again.

"I DON'T LIKE TO PLAY GAMES, HARRY!"He sounded dangerously closer now. Harry must have been running in circles because he could have sworn he had left the Death Eaters and their leader far behind him. Harry coerced himself to move faster as more venomous smoke wrapped its black fingers around his lungs and made breathing a futile task. The sounds of his heart beating like a drum stirred in his ears blocking all other noises.

Suddenly, he gripped his head and his eyes tightened shut. A violent convulsion had begun to attack his brain. In the sudden pain overwhelming him, Harry slid back against the trunk of a tree and held his throbbing head in both hands.

"_Return to me_..." His enemy's voice hissed into his ears like the sound of claws on a chalkboard. "_And I will spare the lives of your precious friends that have remained. Return... and no one else shall die. I give you... my word._" The suggestion was exceedingly alluring. In fact, it was so enticing, that Harry actually forced himself back up and started taking slow steps towards the direction of the Dark Lord awaiting him until he was close enough to see black robes not too far off. He was back where he had started, the burning school tumbling down like the falling empire behind the gathering of robed wizards. Thankfully, his presence remained unbeknownst to them while he continued moving forward. It was the plea of one of his best friends that stopped him in his walk towards death.

"DON'T DO IT HARRY! RUN! KEEP GOING! WE'LL BE-" Hermione's entreaty was immediately changed into screams when a red light struck her back and forced her onto the dirt in complete agony. Harry had no idea who had shot the Cruciatus Curse at her but he had to resist running amongst those cynical devils and killing every single last one. It wouldn't have worked anyways. They would strike him down before he could even reach her.

"HERMIONE!" Harry's other best friend, Ron, said in terror whilst fighting out of the arms of the two men holding him back. In a second he was by Hermione's side, brushing her wild hair out of her eyes to see her tortured face. "I'LL KILL YOU, YOU BASTARD!" Ron proclaimed when he turned to Rodolphus Lestrange who had his wand pointing at Hermione. The hot-tempered redhead was preparing to tackle the monster of a man only to be restrained once again. It took two strong men to fully hold him back.

_"Your friends must learn to bite their tongues if they wish to live long enough to see you die."_ Voldemort advised through Harry's brain.

In his attempt to try and escape his captors' grasps, Ron had spotted a light glinting off something in the distance. Squinting, he focused his eyes enough to see through the smoke and make out the sight of Harry's glasses, reflecting the fierce fire that swallowed up the school. They made eye contact and Ron mouthed just one word to his best friend. 'Run.' Harry pursed his lips in deep thought. He didn't know what he should do. Should he listen to Ron and make a break for it again? Or would it be best to sacrifice himself? Many lives would be saved but over the years of Voldemort's reign many more would be ruined. But if he chose to run, what would become of his friends? They would no doubt be killed. Perhaps he could face Voldemort and his followers alone and by some miracle, kill him. No, there wasn't even a slim chance of that false hope happening. Harry looked up at Ron once more as Hermione's screams continued to torment his ears. Again, Ron mouthed one word but this time he jerked his head to usher Harry to get going. 'Run!'

Carefully as possible, he backed away from the fiendish witches and wizards before him. He was just about to escape their vision had it not been for a branch that cracked under his foot. Hermione's screams had unfortunately not managed to mask the sound. As soon as the break of the branch reached the enemies ears, a colourful array of curses shot at Harry. In the nick of time, he rolled out of the way only to be hit by a blasting curse from an unknown wand, throwing him back against a tree and knocking the wind out of him. Harry's left shoulder was undoubtedly dislocated yet even with that pain, he managed to rise and run from the army of black-clad wizards trailing after him.

Curses fired left and right. Hundreds of feet tromped against the fertile soil. Inhabitants of the Forbidden Forest scattered for their homes or at least away from the heat of battle. Harry managed to glance back at his pursuers and fire a few spells at them to take some out of the chase. However it seemed that no matter how many he took out, another came and filled the space. Harry's main aim was for Voldemort himself who lead the attack with a villainous grin on his face but his devoted followers either blocked the spells or took the hits themselves.

Harry was hunted through thickets of bushes, around the tallest trees, and down the steepest hills. They were persistent and easily hit Harry with more spells than anyone should be willing to take. If it weren't for his own perseverance, his hatred towards Voldemort, and his desire for revenge he would have been down and as good as dead. But he wouldn't let himself forfeit to the darkness beginning to encroach on his eyes. Even if he did out run them however, the blood loss from his wounds would certainly kill him soon enough. In certain places, he could feel the warm liquid flowing in buckets and seeping through his clothes. Harry pushed away all negative thoughts of death to focus only on escaping or bringing down the lord he despised so much.

"You can't run forever!" Voldemort teased from behind him, closing up on Harry as his legs were drained of momentum and strength. The adrenaline of being chased was wearing away thus leaving him without a source of energy. He sent a barrage of Sectumsempras at the chasers, leaving blood in his wake. He tried a new technique besides dodging. Instead, Harry zigzagged along the forest, confusing and separating many Death Eaters. Brilliant lights of all sorts of colours followed Harry's path, seeking to harm him but only came in contact with tree trunks.

The technique was working! Harry couldn't believe it! He didn't know how long it would last though and continued with it. He successfully gave himself more feet of distance between them. Some had tired of the pursuit and were jogging behind him slowly and fading away behind a mist that wasn't there a second ago. While observing his surroundings to make sure no Death Eaters popped up out of the thick fog, Harry failed to notice the slippery mud in front of him. Instantly, he lost his footing and was on his back, sliding downwards and slamming his head on rocks, stones, and large roots on his way down.

Fresh crimson blood dripped down his head and he found a sort of darkness overcoming his mind, clogging his brain from thought. As his glasses were lost somewhere along the way he had lost his sense of sight and didn't know where he was going. At the end of his slide through the forest Harry fell into a little hole under a tree like the entrance into the Shrieking Shack. The hole was damp, musky, and full of dirt but a safe refuge. Harry could hear many heavy footsteps passing by his little shelter and continuing onwards. He released a breath he didn't know he was holding and found that his heart was thumping fast enough to kill him. When he was sure his pursuers were a safe distance away, he tried to get up but it was hopeless. The injuries were to severe and prohibited him from even adjusting himself the slightest bit. When his continuing attempts failed, only leading to more bleeding and pain, Harry laid his head back against the trunk of the inside of the tree, prepared to greet death.

"So this is how I'm going to die, huh?" He rasped with a cough. "Well, it's better than what Voldemort would have done to me... It's best if I'm just gone." And with this conclusion, Harry closed his eyes and let himself slowly black out. However, before he could fall into unconsciousness, he could have sworn he heard a stern yet caring whisper from above the hole he had assumed to be his coffin.

"Help me get him out. Carefully! Hurry, before they return!" A cold hand reached in and gingerly held his head. With the last bits of power that he had, Harry opened one eye into a slit and could make out two people with blond hair through his blurry vision. "Hold on, Harry. You're going to be alright. Hold on." And then, he was out like a light.

* * *

Plop. Plop. Plop. Cold water dripped from the crevices of the stone ceiling above Harry's prone form. Continually, they dropped onto his eyes until they fluttered open. Instantly, he was welcomed by all sorts of odd smells. There was a sort of musky odour seeping through the walls. The scents of many different potions were fighting for dominance in the thick, suffocating air accompanied by the metallic smell of blood. To his weak eyes, everything was an undistinguishable blur but he could make out a chair next to him and great pillars around the dim room. Harry attempted to get up but a searing pain in his gut made him gasp and collapse. He inspected his topless body to see fatal wounds bandaged up as well as his arms and hands covered with fresh gauze. For once in what felt like years, he was clean and actually feeling well despite the pain.

"Looks like you're up." A feminine voice said from what Harry could make out to be the entrance. A gate squeaked open and the sound of clicking heels made their way closer towards him. "It took you long enough. Had it taken any longer, I would have assumed you dead." In a desperate attempt to see who his saviour was, Harry rubbed at his eyes and tried once more to arise but his injuries soon dropped him back down. "I wouldn't try to get up if I were you. I'm no mediwitch so what I've done to heal you so far isn't too great."

"Who are you?" He rasped through dry lips. "Where am I?" The footsteps stopped advancing.

"Oh yes, you don't have the best eyesight do you Harry? I completely forgot." The woman continued walking again, picked up her patient's glasses from a table by his side and set them on his face. "There. Better?" As soon as everything came together, Harry blinked twice and found two blue eyes looking back at him.

"Mrs. Malfoy?" He said in surprise. It alarmed him at first and he was tempted to jump away in fear that this was a trap although doing so would be near impossible and not to mention there wasn't a drop of malice or coldness in those clear eyes. In fact, they held warmth and a sort of sanctuary in them that Harry had never seen before.

"Yes, yes I know. Big shock, is it not?" In reply he spoke not a word. Narcissa Malfoy granted him this quiet as she knew that he would need a moment to gather his thoughts. In the meantime, she seated herself in the chair as she had many, many times to watch over him. In the case that he would awaken, Narcissa had prepared herself for nearly any question he could ask; however his first inquiry threw her off.

"Why? Why did you save me?" Although, even without expectation of this question, the answer was fairly easy.

"You saved my son. Despite the things I know he's done to you, you saved him. Had he been in your shoes, I'm ashamed to say Draco would probably not do the same." Harry nodded and adjusted himself a bit.

"How long have I been out?"

"Oh it's hard to say exactly. You've been in a coma-like state for quite some time. Three to four weeks I'd say."

"Three to four weeks?" Harry hollered as he shot up, ignoring the horrible ache that blasted through him and made a single tear fall out of his eye. "What happened to Ron and Hermione? Where are the Weasleys? Luna, Neville, Professor McGonagall, everyone, how are they?"

"Shhh, Harry." Narcissa said in a smooth voice, easing him back onto his makeshift bed. For a moment, she was silent and left Harry in an unbearable suspense. Then, with a sorrowful, morose look in her eyes, she shook her head slowly but she kept the rest of her countenance solid, not letting it show how much she wanted to cry. "Gone." The single word impacted Harry like a train hitting him head-on. It was worse than any blow he had ever taken from any spell. The Cruciatus Curse itself couldn't even compare. That one word shattered him into a million pieces.

"I guess that's it then." Harry whispered forlornly upon finding his will to speak again. "He won... I failed... It's because of me... it's because of me they all died." This was more than a boy of eighteen should go through. Narcissa could only imagine what it would be like to lose all those close to you, every single last one, at such a young age. Slowly, she pushed herself up from her chair and looked down at Harry; his hands covered his face in complete misery.

Very carefully, she took his still wounded hands, and gently pulled them away to see his green eyes, so much like his mother's, staring back at her and brimming with tears. "Don't blame it on yourself." She coaxed, brushing his dark hair out of his face. "It couldn't be helped. No one could have saved them. We underestimated Voldemort, and that was our mistake. But you're still alive, so there's still a chance for you to defeat him."

"What's the point of winning anymore?" Harry mumbled. "I'm nothing without them by my side."

"And what makes you so sure of that?"

"It's because of my friends that I'm still alive. They willingly risked their lives to save me... And I can't ever get the chance to thank them for everything."

"You still have a chance to do that."

"How?" Harry asked incredulously. "They're dead."

She refrained from flinching by the blunt statement and responded by leaning in close to him and whispering into his ear, "Live- avenge them, of course. Make sure their efforts won't be for nothing."

"Avenging them is easier said than done." He scoffed with a pessimistic edge to his voice.

"Then go down trying." The simplicity with which she said this had Harry turn his head to her, complete bewilderment on his face. The insisting grumble of his stomach took the liberty of breaking their eye contact and dutifully, Narcissa stood up. "You must be starving after not eating a thing for weeks. I'll be a second." And as she started to walk away, she took a look back at Harry one last time. "See if you can remember this place."

After Narcissa had disappeared up the stairs, Harry heeded her words and squinted into the fading light of a few candles to make out the room. Ancient dark artefacts were neatly organised around the room and the odd smells made it obvious that this wasn't a common bedroom...It could only be the cellar- the same one where Harry, Ron, Luna, and Ollivander had been locked up in. He was in Malfoy Manor where the Horcrux hunt had begun. Seemed to Harry that everything was coming to an end, right where it had started. Softly he repeated the words inscribed on the Golden Snitch given to him by Albus Dumbledore. "I open at the close."


	2. He's Here

**A/N: The little song in this chapter goes along with the melody (With a few similar lyrics/meanings) from 'Safe and Sound' by Taylor Swift and 'Shake it Out' by Florence + The Machine. If you're curious to know how it sounds, it's based off the beginning tune of the second song mentioned. I recommend it to those who don't have much of an ear for music but want to know the tune of it. Anyhow, read on. **

**IMPORTANT NOTE: Due to concerns of whether or not lyrics straight from a song are permitted, they have newly and properly been omitted in one way or another. No lyric is word-for-word of the original works used. Update made: April 29, 2012.  
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* * *

Many days had passed, but all that inhabited Malfoy Manor always felt rather disquiet and continually kept on the alert. Voldemort knew by this point that Harry wasn't dead yet. He could feel his living presence. According to Lucius Malfoy, the Dark Lord was searching for Harry like a madman, destroying nearly everything in his path while his followers terrorised and seized more and more of the Wizarding World.

It was strange for Harry however, to see the man, Lucius Malfoy, who he always thought to be obdurate and heartless, risking his family's life by housing him within his home. They spoke scarcely to each other over the passing time period. Lucius would occasionally go down to the cellar and inform Harry of the Dark Lord's current movements. The more details with which Lucius spoke of the murders and unforgivable crimes Voldemort committed, the more Harry boiled. Guilt gnawed at him like a savage beast and never once did it back away from his mind. He could only put the blame on himself. After all, if he had been able to stop the Dark Lord sooner, none of this would have happened.

Eventually, the agony had overwhelmed Harry. It drove him to the point where he attempted to sneak out of the manor to confront his enemy himself. Of course, he was aware the odds were against him. It was very possible that he wouldn't make it back alive; but anything was better than just sitting there and doing nothing.

It was late at night, almost nearing dawn. Harry had not caught a wink of sleep that night and finally decided to make an escape. All was well up until the point he opened the door leading out of the drawing room and into the hall. Draco had also been up the entire time. He was also kept awake by the consumption of his own contrition. The creak of the door and sound of footsteps had alerted him that someone was awake. It could have been no one other than Harry. Draco had appeared at the entrance right before Harry could stretch his hand towards the knob.

"Don't even try!" Draco had said to Harry, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him away from the door. "It would be plain foolish of you to go out there in your condition! You would be dead after taking no more than a step out this door! My parents have gone through a great deal to keep you hidden here, and you would be wrong to let their efforts go to waste!"

"WE CAN'T JUST SIT HERE AND DO NOTHING!" Harry barked at him. "He's going around freely killing people! He needs to be stopped!"

"YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?" Draco yelled back, tightening his grip on Harry's arm. The regret in his blue eyes was as clear as daylight. From the dark circles under his eyes, Harry also assumed that this wasn't his first sleepless night. After a short silence, Draco took a deep breath and continued in a controlled voice. "There's nothing you can do. You're not ready to face him yet." He stated, collecting his thoughts in a pause. "But I'm going to help you win. The people he killed were my classmates as much as they were yours."

"You were on his side! You're as much at fault as the rest of those bloody Death Eaters!"

I've done them wrong! I've done... wrong things, I know. But I'm going to fix it."

"It's too late for that. Do you not know they're dead, Draco?" Harry said with a venomous edge to his voice.

"But it's not too late to change myself." Draco said, careful to keep his voice even. "If I die, I'm going to die doing what's right." They had stared one another down for a while, neither willing to break eye contact. Then, Harry released a heated breath, pushed past Draco and grudgingly returned to his cellar where he stayed for more days to come.

As he was to stay undercover, Harry was advised to rarely leave his new 'room'. It wasn't a very difficult task, but he could feel himself maddening more and more with each hour that passed within that dark, cold confinement. Every passing moment he found more reasons to blame himself for everything wrong that was happening. Eventually, it was as though the weight of the world rested upon Harry's shoulders and it kept pushing him down, deeper and deeper into the abyss of depression.

Each night a new nightmare, as brutal and terrible as the last, appeared every time he closed his eyes. He would either awake a million times throughout the night, sweaty and panicked, or wouldn't get a wink of sleep. But he kept quiet about it and told no one about these night time terrors. In fact, Harry never said much. It was as though he was a ghost, haunting and wandering aimlessly around the manor, a ghastly expression on his face. Those handsome green eyes, now hollow and desolate, held behind them tormenting images of dearly departed companions and family lost at the hands of the war. His mind couldn't completely comprehend that he would never see any of them ever again. It all felt too surreal to him.

Other than informing him of Voldemort's advancements and calling him to dinners which he never attended, the Malfoys generally let Harry keep to himself. But worry festered within Narcissa Malfoy. She feared that Harry may have gone mad by now or there may not be much of a mind left to work with. At this rate, it could be assumed that he would soon be nothing but an empty, soulless shell at which point he would be incapable of fighting anything. Narcissa couldn't even fathom what it would be like to lose everyone and everything you have ever known and loved and not be capable of doing anything about it. After such an event, anyone would be in Harry's condition, if not worse. But things would become much worse if he wasn't healed soon. So in due time Narcissa finally approached him.

"Harry," She called down into his cellar, peeking into the dark, depressing place that the boy had long been enclosed in. "Are you here?" She asked. Of course, she knew that he would be. The boy had not sought daylight since he recovered nearly three weeks ago so it was highly likely that he would be nowhere else. Soon enough, he responded a bit late an emotionless, 'yes' from deep within the room. Following the voice, Narcissa found him lying on his bed, turned away and facing the wall. When she approached his bedside, he didn't turn back to look at her so she sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. "You need to eat, dear. I haven't seen you eat a single thing this entire time. You're starting to turn back into that scrawny ten-year old boy from his first year."

"I'm not hungry." He said easily.

In turn, Narcissa tightened her hold on his shoulder in a way that comforted Harry and whispered to him, "They're not coming back. You and I both know that. Living like this won't help anything."

"Living like what?"

"Don't play dumb with me, Harry. I mean living the way you are- you don't eat, you barely sleep, you wander aimlessly, and don't speak a word to another soul. You may as well be a dead man yourself. It's not healthy and it's not going to benefit anyone."

"Please, just return to your dinner. Don't let me spoil it." It was an obvious attempt to evade the problem at hand, but Narcissa was much too coy for that to faze her.

"Look at me, Harry." He continued to stare ahead at nothing in particular. She called his name once more but it was like speaking to a brick wall. The chances of hearing something in return were slim to none. It took one more holler of his name followed by a tight squeeze on his shoulder for him to finally turn and face her.

The sight before Narcissa simply left her breathless and she was forced to hold in a gasp. What she had said was right; he truly did resemble a dead man. As she had never spotted him around the mansion, her first glance at him after so long took her by surprise. In the natural light of day leaking in from a small cellar window, she was given the chance to see how greatly Harry had changed – certainly not for the better.

His green eyes, so much like Lilly Evans, showed a never ending void, as though he had lost his very soul. They looked tired as well, bags under them and dry from shedding tears. Harry's face was even gaunt and paler than usual, almost ghostly. Truly one could say he resembled a corpse. Before speaking again she had to take a deep breath from the consternation his appearance had given her.

"Do you not want to avenge your friends, all those who loved you and died fighting to save you?"

"What good would it do?"

"What good would it do to do nothing? Draco told me how you wanted to fight and tried to run away not too long ago. Where did that determination go?" Harry didn't say a word so Narcissa continued. "Would you rather die starving yourself, or would you die valiantly like they did? You're the only one who can stop the Dark Lord!" Yet again he was silent but she knew she had hit a soft nerve.

In a less argumentative way he said, "I'll never be able to take the Death Eaters and Voldemort all alone."

"You won't have to." There was a split second of shock on his features but it was quickly shielded by his usual mortifying complexion

"If you're saying that your family is going to help me, it still won't be enough to do anything. We'll all die."

"Then we'll die fighting."

"What would that achieve?"

"It would be better than dying knowing you didn't do a thing when you had the chance. At the very least, you would die feeling accomplished. I'm sure that's what everyone would have wanted." Narcissa could see the resistance draining from Harry's face. She could have been wrong, but there was even the smallest sparkle of hope in his eyes. Giving him a small, encouraging smile, she slowly helped him up. "Come. Let's get some food into you."

* * *

An incredible change, a miracle actually had taken place. The boy who was merely a lifeless corpse a few days ago began to show signs of life. Bit by bit, he was retrieved from among the dead.

The first step was to get him to eat. It started with nothing but small bites at a time but soon he began to eat normally, reverting into his strong and healthy self, growing even. Then he proceeded to talk just a little, giving small responses here and there but eventually those turned into long conversations, snide comments, and jokes every now and again. But the greatest change was that he had formed new bonds.

All on his own, Harry became closer with each member of the Malfoy family, something he had never even dreamed of. Draco and Harry talked, joked, and laughed together. All past disputes had flown out the window, leaving space for a newfound friendship to develop. They weren't as close as Ron and Harry were but there weren't quarrels of any kind. They gave each other company when necessary and that was enough to keep them both on good terms. Lucius's distaste for Harry also seemed to have subsided for the most part.

When he wasn't out playing one of Voldemort's devoted followers he spent time with Draco and Harry, training them for the moment when they'll have to fight side by side. Lucius quickly learned that Harry was already a very capable wizard. Though his arsenal of spells was in small amount, the common ones which Harry did know were extremely powerful. He also learned new spells easily and with a bit of practice, mastered them as though he had been using them all his life. Lucius couldn't help but feel proud of him though he never visibly expressed it. The congratulations were tacit by the nods of approval Lucius gave when Harry perfected a spell. They were just enough to create a solid courage in Harry. He began to believe in himself, an aspect he required given the situation. However, among these growing relationships Harry and Narcissa's was the one that strengthened and grew the most.

While the Malfoy men were out, dutifully portraying their roles as Death Eaters, Harry and Narcissa were left alone. Once Harry had somewhat overcome his gloomy stage, he willingly helped Narcissa with errands and housework while the house-elves were busy with other chores. Harry helped her decorate the garden, occasionally prepare dinner, and even go out for groceries or new clothes. It was pure luck that the Malfoys had Polyjuice Potion so Harry could leave the house now and then as either Draco or Lucius. The fresh air did him good and proved to bring some sanity back into his system.

In the process of spending so much time together, Narcissa and Harry gave each other good company. They often shared jokes and had long, mind-opening conversations. They soon even became each other's confidents. Some of Narcissa's past troubles and fears came to light as did Harry's. Narcissa spoke of how she would do anything to change the fate of her husband, about becoming a Death Eater, and about how she failed at keeping her son away from that same fate. But the talks about Bellatrix Lestrange were what intrigued Harry the most. It was hard, of course, for Harry to see that dark, sinister woman in a good light but Narcissa always spoke so fondly of her when she brought her up.

She mentioned how they had shared a special, unbreakable bond. They were always together, inseparable. Narcissa had always looked up to her older sister. She also admitted that Bellatrix was always a sort of lunatic, though in an admirable and entertaining way; whereas now she was completely off her nut. However, each time Harry asked how it was that Bellatrix had changed, Narcissa stayed silent for a while before proceeding to say, "The evil consumed her." There was never any other response. Eventually, Harry had left the question unanswered though the curiosity remained in the back of his mind.

All in all though, everything seemed to be looking up for Harry. He could smile again, he could laugh, and he could cherish happy moments. There wasn't a worry in sight as Voldemort had seemingly lost his pursue of Harry and focused on his takeover. And of course Harry knew outside this almost perfect home, a war was going on, but he chose to ignore it for the time being. The time would come when he had to face it. For now, he wanted nothing but to spend every joyful occasion as though they were his last which they might as well have been. But this fantasy happy-ending concluded all too soon.

* * *

_The same setting from the day he had escaped his death enveloped Harry as he was once more running for his life. But one thing was different. This time, everyone was with him, and by that, he meant everyone- Remus, Tonks, Hermione, the Weasleys, the Order, his professors, the Malfoys, his parents, and more. Dead or alive, all those he had loved were present with him. It set an ease inside of him; but it vanished once a horrendous snake-like cackle pierced his ears. With it, colourful arrays of thousands of spells were cast among his ranks and his friends and allies went down like flies. Harry couldn't even bring himself to look away from the gruesome sight. Screams of pain followed by the silence of death filled the air._

_ When he had gained the courage to look ahead again, there were only two people remaining with him- his parents James and Lilly Potter. Each one held his hand on either side and smiled at him. Harry felt as giddy as a child and couldn't help but smile despite being in a dreadful situation. His parents were tangible. For once, he could touch them, feel their warmth. It was sensational; but suddenly, the hands in his went cold and limp. Immediately, he stopped and their dead bodies fell to the ground beside him. Suddenly vulnerable, Harry fell to his knees and let tears freely flow down his face. They were the first people he had lost in his life, and here they were the last to go. _

_ When a sharp searing pain stung his lightning scar, he too fell to the dirt. His vision was blurred by the sheer intensity of the pain but he could make out a figure over him- Voldemort with a cynical grin on his face._

_ "The Boy- Who-Lived... your time has come." The pain spread through his entire body, sending him into a series of violent spasms and convulsions. _

"WAKE UP, HARRY! WAKE UP!" His eyes fluttered open and he bolted upright, finding Narcissa Malfoy sitting next to his bed. Harry was drenched in sweat, tangled in his sheets, taking fast, ragged breaths, and his throat was sore; indicating that he had been screaming in his sleep again. This time he had been heard. Seeing that his eyes had opened at last, Narcissa pulled him into a hug. "Thank Merlin, you're awake." She pulled away from the embrace and pushed his damp hair from his forehead. "These nightmares have been recurring, haven't they?" She inquired. Slowly, Harry nodded.

"What are they about? Voldemort?"

"They involve him very often." Harry said honestly in a whisper.

"You see your friends in the nightmares?" He nodded forlornly. "Do you see them... die in front of you?"

"Most times, yes."

"Are these nightmares why you haven't been able to sleep? The reason why you always look so tired?" A single nod was given again. "And you never told any of us because?"

"I... I never thought it was important." Narcissa shook her head and gently laid Harry back onto his bed.

"Of course it's important, Harry. Had you told any of us earlier, we could think of a way for you to get some rest." Then they sat in silence together for a while as she soothingly combed her fingers through Harry's hair as a mother may do to console her own child. She really had no idea what to say in this situation but she wished she did. Personally, she never knew anyone who had gone through so many hardships. Except for... "I know the perfect remedy. This always helped me get back to sleep after a bad dream." She tapped her finger on her chin for a bit, trying to remember what the words were as she had not heard them herself for what could be ages now. Finally, the words just as she had heard them so long ago dawned on her. Though she could only remember part of the song, Narcissa knew it would be enough to soothe him. She lightly cleared her throat, continued stroking Harry's hair, and in a voice as smooth and sweet as honey she sang.

_I'm here to relieve your darkest moments_

_Close your eyes and soon the sun will rise_

_Don't let anything put you down_

_All may seem bleak and grey right now_

_But keep your head up high, and soon you will fly_

_It will be dark before the dawn_

_Just leave the past behind_

_With morning light, you'll be alright_

_I'll be by your side when the day arrives_

_Bury your fears into the ground_

_No one can hurt you now, I will make that vow_

_Just close your eyes and all will be fine_

_I have been fool and I have been blind_

_But I'll always be with you and we will pull through_

_I will keep you safe all by myself_

_I'm here to relieve your darkest moments_

_Know this lullaby and you'll never cry_

_It's will be dark before the dawn_

As though the lyrics were a spell, Harry instantly found himself in a serene, sedative slumber. But as he slipped away into the peaceful hands of sleep, Harry made certain to cling to and remember each word. It was a remarkably melodious, harmonious, and tranquil little tune. He wished to always treasure the song. In a sense, it had warmed Harry to his very core. It had easily created a sense of complete placidity over him. He couldn't even remember the last time he was so at ease with himself. The short yet sweet lullaby was so beautiful, so hypnotising that it could likely tame even the most savage of beasts. It was the first time he was greeted by an undisturbed slumber.

However, this rest was short lived. A series of a large amount of thundering footsteps followed by countless, rowdy shouts and yells from a group of people had instantaneously awoken him. Again, Harry shot up like a bullet from his bed and was slapped by the searing burn of his scar.

"_Oh no." _ He thought as he pushed back the pain as best as he could and snatched his glasses, pushing them up his nose while his mind desperately tried to overcome its groggy and hazy state so he could reclaim his senses. "_He can't be here! Not yet!"_ He screamed internally, not wanting to believe that his enemies had finally discovered him. It would have been idiotic to think this new happier life would last forever. He was very much aware that it had to end but... not _now_. It was too early. He wanted more time. It all passed too quickly. More time to be happy, more time to enhance his magic, more time to live... But no matter how much he wished for it, fate had made up its mind. The long-awaited battle was underway.

Harry quickly changed into blue pants and a plain white t-shirt then scurried to the gate of his little cell and looked through the bars. As soon as he reached it Draco was a few steps above, looking down at Harry. The blond boy tried to keep his complexion controlled but the fear and alarm was clear as daylight in his eyes. Draco didn't say a single word, but merely put a finger to his lips and mouthed the words, 'He's here' then hurried back up the stairs.


End file.
